Victimize
by witchfingers
Summary: When sir Integra is kidnapped, Alucard strikes a deal with Rip Van Winkle, the fallen huntress, to claim her back. Warning: angst, telepathy, mentions of syringes, werewolves and abuse. [AxI] [PxS] [RxH]


_**Victimize**__: -verb- To deprive of by deceat._

* * *

"_Huntress..._" 

In the lightless void, two red eyes open slowly.

Spotlight, white luminescence hits the floor- to the sides it's dark and dead, and then, there's that spotlight. Empty spotlight.

"_Come out, Huntress._"

Figure in the spotlight. The red eyes flutter, flutter, flutter. Echo of incorporeal steps towards her figure in the spotlight. She trembles in fear, her red eyes are the embodiment of her terror.

She's the figure in the spotlight.

A pink alarm clock falls from the infinite above her and clatters on the floor, in the spotlight, next to her. It rings.

"_Good morning, Huntress..._"

---

A bengal lit the clouded sky. Victoria Seras sat next to a precarious bonfire, she and the remaining members of the Wild Geese tense and alert. A radio confirmed the dreaded rumors.

"_Sir Hellsing is held in enemy quarters. To all troops, stand your ground..._"

Seras and the mercenaries exchanged unreadable looks. "Master's on his way," she said, with a reassuring smile, "He'll take care of this..." The marching sound out of the makeshift hideout became suddenly more intimidating.

"_...I repeat, stand your ground... _"

---

"Why?"

_"I'm interested in knowing my way around your lovely headquarters."_

"No..."

_"Why, yes I do, Huntress..."_

"You... might..."

_"Show me the way..."_

"No."

_"Your price? Desperate situations require desperate measures..."_

"..."

_"Well?"_

"Take me to the light, Samiel"

---

He smiles at her unfounded resolution, but not once the spotlight wavers. The alarm clock is ringing, she stands her ground even though she trembles like a leaf. Out of the void surrounding her surges a familiar umbrella.

_"If so you wish..."_

_---_

She greedily sank her canines into his cold hand, air, blood and vital energy flowing into her system and exploding inside her, and from a shivering heap of bones and cloth a figure begins to take form, a lanky figure with a large, feral grin plastered on its face.

The original vampire stood up wordlessly and looked down at her, and she returned the stare in an unsure way.

"Will you kill me again when it's over?"

"Perhaps"

The feral grin returned to her face. "That's what men _always _say."

---

"_Calling all Wild Geese unit members, red code, I repeat, red code. Abort current mission and report to third base._"

Sera's ears perked up at the words the radio spat sourly. "What's that?" she inquired. The men started standing up.

"It's a distraction tactic," the Captain explained laconically. "If you said Alucard's on Boss' way, then we're those Nazis' bait."

"Cheer up," he added, lighting a cigar at the time his keen eye scanned the remains of the bonfire, in search for any possible remain of equipment. He lastly picked up his hat and ushered her towards the awaiting jeep.

"_C'est la vie, mignonette_"

---

The helicopter rises high up into a cloudy, unwelcoming city sky. One vampire sits on a casket, another vampire sits on a seat, safe-belt properly buckled.

"Germany _vill_ be under us, soon."

The vampire on the casket scowls a scowl that has become permanent on his face.

"..."

He doesn't feel talkative, at that moment.

---

"..._quel dolce suono...de' passati giorni_"

She hopped down the path next to a tense Alucard, who was too lost in thought to even mind her.

She twirled her umbrella in her long, spidery fingers and kept on singing.

"..._o felice, tu anima mia_..."

Step, step, step, twirl, spin, wait for Alucard, step, dash, stop, twirl umbrella.

".._canta addagio_..."

Wait for Alucard. Wait.

Until he once more caught up with her.

And her feral grin lit her face up.

"No one said life ist fair, Samiel..."

---

"Which way?" Alucard expertly inquires, a thrilled flame in his eyes making his question imperative.

"_Ach so_," Rip Van Winkle shrinks her shoulders, "Hard to tell. But getting past the guards first seems like a good idea, Herr Alucard."

Irritated, he saves the distance between her and him, and he scowls, locking his eyes with hers, that look up at him from their ruling place upon a sea of freckles. "There's a time for sarcasm, and there's a time for being serious, Huntress."

"_Und getting to the Fraulein before Herr Major gets to the Fraulein deserves seriousness, I assume_," she thinks loud enough for him to hear.

"_Yes, it does,_" the vampire states dryly.

She smiles. "I'm not afraid of you any more, Samiel," she bravely announces, proud of herself.

"_But you should be._"

She shivers.

---

"_Ach_, Fraulein Hellsing. _Willkommen_, to Millenium's _humble_ base."

Integra's eyes were open and stared at the white ceiling. Open wide, open as wide as only a person who has been drugged can open. Large, dilated pupils took up most of her eyes, barely allowing the glacial blue irises some protagonism in the crisped look. The corner of her mouth twitched.

"Sick bastards," she hissed, but then Herr Major was not listening to her, anyway.

"Your maximum comfort was ensured..." His sly eyes shot a side-glance at the strong, firmly bulletproof belts that secured her to the hard stretcher.

"Und we _guarantee_ this won't hurt..."

A tall, willowy frame stepped forward out of the shadows. The one that stood behind remained still and silent, an olive green uniform hiding his features.

"... _much._"

A syringe danced in Dok's hand, as if it was trying to dance away the excitement, or rather, Dok's excitement, of finally being put to use.

"... After all, the sterilization solution was tested _plenty_ of times before, was it not, Dok?"

Integra's eyes didn't widen because they couldn't widen any more, but instead, the sides of her mouth became rigid and her teeth clenched in impotence. She attempted hard to wriggle out of the stretcher's choking embrace, but a sharp pain in her neck gradually made her desist.

"It was, Herr Major..."

Dok responded, part sounding submissive, and part proud... extremely proud.

First came the Queen, and after the Queen, Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing was England's second most powerful woman.

And she was tied to a plank of white wood, able to do nothing, and quivering in fear for her life.

---

She doesn't scream. She doesn't try to wrestle.

She can't glare with loathe at the scum that probes the anorexic needle on her because a belt binds her neck to the stiff board, and she can't expect any help from anyone, because that ward is literally tapestried with restriction charms and ancient alchemic-like symbols to that effect, much like those her family used to bind Alucard to their service, centuries ago.

So she doesn't scream.

She doesn't struggle.

She lays still on the stretcher and closes her eyes, and she wishes she could have a smoke.

---

"The Captain vill keep you company as I'm away, _Fraulein_."

That Major's words didn't fall into deaf ears. Integra's eyes, previously closed, opened gradually. The hospital-like white light blinded her and she had to squint her eyes so that it wouldn't make them hurt. The Major's figure repulsed her now to extreme and ridiculous proportions, and her stomach churned in disgust as she saw him standing slothfully by the doorsill, until, with a slight bow of the head, he exited, shutting the door behind him.

Metal against metal, the door closed and her weary eyes found the Captain's.

Blue and blue, Integra wasn't expecting her glazed look to be answered by another one of such intensity. Those eyes, deep and so shaded that they were devoid of any light, had the ability to transmit a kind of strength she wasn't familiarized with.

For the first time in a long while, sir Hellsing felt fear, real fear.

There was a sort of passive predatory feel to them she had never witnessed before, and when he blinked, because of some reason she couldn't explain, she took real notice of being alone and unprotected. She had heard about the Captain, Hellsing's highest ranks had all heard about the Captain of Millenium's troops. He was the silent menace, the tamed enemy of enemies no one considered when it came to schemes and counter-attacks and offensive tactics... he was the werewolf, the ultimate, primitive stop to the vampire's power. He was the immutable and last resource of anyone who would resort to violence against Hellsing, because not even the infamous No Life King knew of the certain way to put a stop to the one creature who was able to put a stop to him.

And looking into his eyes, Integra seemed to understand why that one particular monster was unstoppable.

And as their eyes locked, a strong, deep voice started speaking inside her head. She recognized the fashion. But it wasn't Alucard's voice the one that was regretlessly invading the private grounds of her mind; it sounded more alive, but remarkably raspy, as opposite to Alucard's smooth speech. The man who spoke to her through telepathy modulated in a deliberate, steady demeanor, but his tone of voice evoked that of someone who had almost recovered from a sore throat, but still had some roughness at the edges of the words.

"_I know what it's like... to lose a loved one._"

Integra froze at those words, her eyes searching immediately for the werewolf's. She found them still, impassive.

"_I wonder if Hellsing didn't rob me of more than Millenium did._"

She gritted her teeth, having abandoned any attempt to stay calm long ago. That place, that cell, that _situation_, had reverted her to the unsure little girl she had been seconds before pulling the trigger on her uncle. She quietened herself and forced her words to come out calm, at least.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The Captain didn't speak to her again. He just closed his eyes.

And something in that gesture constricted Integra's chest.

---

"Captain Bernadotte?" Seras stood up and rushed to her superior's encounter. "What are the orders?"

"My, _mignonette_, you're so cute when you're worried..."

"CAPTAIN!"

"_Laissez faire, _Draculina" the Frenchman said with a relaxed grin. "We just- march towards Germany, and while those blasted Nazis are busy with us, Alucard sneaks Boss through the back door. Piece of cake, _c'est_."

---

She sits on the stretcher. Her abdomen sports like a curse the red points that signal the places where the needles dropped their hideous contents into her system. The signs of physical abuse start lower, below her navel. She winces in disgust at the memory. A thankfully barely-conscious memory.

The Captain gazes at her, his gaze, empty-eyed.

"You're not a good subordinate," miss Hellsing says, resigned. But her voice drips venom.

He answers her verbal violence with an indifferent look that desolates her.

"Thought you would take _Herr Major_'s offer," she adds noxiously, gesturing towards her naked self. He slowly shakes his head, informing her of his disagreement.

She chuckles darkly, "Not a lady's man, I take?" The Captain feels after that phrase Integra's exact emotion. Just the kind of depressive, suicidal sentiment soldiers have when they see death is slapping them in the face. It's not just resignation, it's an aggressive kind of resignation. Once more, the Captain shakes his head.

"_Would you rather have me rape you, too, Fraulein Hellsing?_" He's speaking to her in her mind, but she nonetheless notes the underlying irony in his statement.

She likes to have the last word. "Like it fucking matters."

She crosses her legs, she's still sitting on the stretcher. "Why did you release me?"

She doesn't get an answer. Somehow, that man speaks more with silences more than what many people she knew could speak with words. And it nags her.

Captain Hans Günsche stays silent, and calmly takes off his heavy coat, leaving his baggy trousers and just a thin white shirt underneath. He paces towards the alert Hellsing leader, and hands her the coat.

She looks up at his still face, questioning.

"_Put it on_," he says in her head, his voice even, unaltered. "_Something wicked is coming this way._"

---

_"What about the restriction charms?" Rip inquires._

_Alucard shrugs, with a carefree smirk. "The only restriction charms that work are these," he says, and waves his gloved hand before her freckled face._

---

There was a moment of tense stillness.

Then the wall crumbled to the ground, sounding as loud as an explosion.

"Ready to go back home, Master?" said a velvety voice, as a tall, dark figure emerged from the ashes and debris in suspension. All clad in black, Integra noted.

"_Sometimes, unnoticed is better,_" a familiar echo tinged with underlying arrogance spoke in her head. She smiled sourly.

"_Early is even better_," she thought, her words dripping scorn and sarcasm, and, why not, a hidden, childish feeling of reproach.

But Alucard noticed it all the same, and his wide smile lost several degrees of self-love, turning into a tart, self-_blaming _scowl of sorts.

"_But that's not always possible..._"

Aware of the conversation being held between master and servant, Captain Günsche stepped forward, stretching his arm in front of Integra. He slowly shook his head.

Alucard smirked widely, and all the previous display of feeling was swallowed into that vampiric grin.

"What do you say of exchanging hostages, Captain?"

On cue, Rip's head tentatively made its appearance from behind the vampire. "Hans!" she said, teary-eyed. "I'm back! I'm alive! I'm---"

Alucard grabbed her by her collar. "Not so fast, Huntress. So," he said smoothly, turning to the unaltered werewolf, "What do you say, Captain?"

Without second thought, the Captain pulled back his arm, and nodded.

Integra's breath froze in her throat. A single glance from the still werewolf had told her more than she wanted to know.

"Thank you," she grumbled under her breath. Captain Günsche nodded again.

His voice resounded in her head. "_An eye for an eye, an arm for an arm, a heart for a heart. Fair._"

Sir Hellsing didn't feel her feet touching the ground as she and Rip switched sides. Her eyes were open wide behind the glass of her dirty glasses, and numerous chills ran down her spine, as if someone had just thrown a bucket of freezing water over her.

"At your command, Master," Alucard said, not waiting for her to get a grip on reality.

Integra closed her eyes. "Take me back to England..."

Her knees gave way below her.

The white ceiling of the room slowly turned into a dark, empty space...

---

Captain Bernadotte coolly exhalles some greyish smoke. The radio is spitting careful, tactical words.

"_Subject secured. To all units, return to base. I repeat, return to base..._"

Seras nods vigorously, as if someone other than her Captain could see her. "Roger."

A small smile of relief hangs from the corner of her lips...

---

Doc stares sadly at the hole in the wall. "That room took me a whole year of experimentation to build..."

Rip and Hans exchange glances, that go unnoticed by the two men.

The Major smiles, a tainted smile. "But now, Hellsing having an heir will only remain as Sir Integra's pretty dream."

---

_"Too stressed, master," were the first words Integra heard as she woke up._

_"What's this place?" she asked, feeling light-headed._

_A small, fanged white smile flashed in the cool darkness._

_"Just back home."_

* * *

**

* * *

**

**Take this as AU, because Pip isn't dead. I like cannon... but I was one character short, and I happen to dislike OCs... n.n"**

**Aw, this was odd, but so much fun to write!**

**NOTE: This story has fanart: http // www.deviantart. com /deviation/57588066/ (without the spaces ;) )**

**Reviews please?**


End file.
